Five Times Sam Saw Jack Shirtless
by ScruffyLovin
Summary: Five times Sam saw Jack shirtless. SamJack, UST to RST.


**Summary: **Five times Sam saw Jack shirtless.

**Timeframe: **Throughout the seasons and beyond.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack UST to RST, Team

**Genre: **Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, General, Romance, Humor

**Rating: **PG.

**Five Times Sam Saw Jack Shirtless**

I.

_Season Three: Crystal Skull_

Jack felt like he was standing way too close to a fire and his skin was going to melt off.The heat was unbearable, and he hated the fact that the problem was entirely internal and there was nothing he could do about it. Janet explained it to him, and although his mind had been fairly muzzy at the time, he got the basics. Because of that stupid radiation, his internal thermostat was on the fritz.

Rolling onto his side, Jack groaned loudly with frustration, unable to get comfortable. Not long ago, just before Teal'c had come in to inform him about Daniel's status, he'd been freezing and had begged for a robe, some socks, sweatpants, and a heated blanket. Right now he was soaking in his own sweat.

Managing to kick off his blankets and toss the robe to the floor, Jack pushed himself to sit up weakly, nearly falling back onto the mattress. He breathed heavily, cursing his feeble body and hunching forward. Jack wiggled around with effort until he'd succeeded in pulling off his infirmary gown, discarding it carelessly, leaving him in just the sweatpants.

Jack sighed heavily with relief and exhaustion as the cool air within the room touched his heated skin. He grinned triumphantly and allowed his tired body to flop backwards once more.

-

Sam turned onto her right side as she woke, opening gluey eyes to peer at the occupant of the bed beside hers. The curtain between the beds was open now, and she could clearly see Colonel O'Neill, sprawled in a supine position atop his bed, sans shirt, and covered in a film of sweat, with a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Sir?" As exhausted as she was, Sam didn't think twice about staring at him in his state of undress.

When O'Neill tilted his head in Sam's direction, he peered at her drowsily, his breathing loud and heavy like he'd been running. "Carter. You're awake again."

Sam just blinked, vaguely remembering when she'd regained consciousness for the first time since she'd passed out off-world from the radiation. Staring at the Colonel, she shivered slightly. Just looking at him was making chills run up her spine. It was way too cold in here. That was it, right? Her body was all screwed up and she was cold. Yes, that's what the chills were from. It had absolutely nothing to do with the very appealing, very shirtless and sweaty man lying on the bed across from her.

"You okay, Carter?" he rasped when she didn't say anything, his heavy voice thick with concern.

She nodded against her pillow and tugged the blankets high over her shoulders. The man had absolutely no idea the effect he was having on her.

As he rolled onto his side to face her, Sam found herself staring openly at his chest, watching the chain from his dog tags flop sideways when he moved. His brows furrowed as he caught her staring, but she couldn't look away. Sam blamed the radiation.

"What?" he murmured with apparent confusion at the look she was giving him.

Still, Sam didn't say anything. She just pulled her blanket around her tighter.

"I'm hot, okay?" Jack muttered defensively, and somewhat self-consciously, glancing down at himself and growling something unintelligible under his breath before rolling onto his other side, his back toward Sam.

She didn't bother to hide the rather goofy smile on her face as she heard him snoring moments later. He had absolutely no idea that the view of his naked, muscled back was just as good.

* * *

II.

Sam tried valiantly to hide her snicker of amusement as her Colonel tromped grumpily into the infirmary, the diminutive Doctor Janet Fraiser on his heels with two orderlies as backup, practically pushing him through the doors. SG-1 had just returned from a very mossy planet that was covered in many water-filled sink holes. Unfortunately, their commander had been unlucky enough to fall right into one.

Sam was still standing nearby, obliviously, when Janet pulled the curtain closed around them. She stood there, dumbstruck, as the Colonel began to peel off his sopping wet clothes. He was stripped to the waist, and undoing his belt, before he noticed she was still standing there. A flash of panic washed over her, her cheeks immediately flushing crimson.

O'Neill dropped his t-shirt to the floor with a wet _shplunk_, his hands still poised at his belt buckle.

_Oh God_, Sam thought with horror. _I am in SO much trouble_. She prepared herself for a reprimand, but it never came. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until now.

"So, Carter, you gonna get out or stick around for the rest of the show?" A roguish grin accompanied his words, and she nearly choked.

Embarrassed beyond belief, Sam swore her cheeks flamed a brighter shade of red. "Uh, excuse me, Colonel. Sorry," she spluttered, hastily retreating.

Sam could hear his amused chuckling on her way out. Bastard. She was in a whole different kind of trouble now.

* * *

III.

Slightly out-of-focus, wide-open cinnamon eyes stared back at Sam as she unwillingly rejoined the land of the conscious. She pulled her head back to create space between her face and the one in front of her, her hazy blue eyes slowly gaining focus in the dim lighting. Her brows knit together with confusion before her brain caught up with what she was seeing, and reminded her of the unusual circumstances she had found herself in less than twenty-four hours ago.

The unusual off-world situations that often graced SG-1 never ceased to amaze Sam. It was the only explanation for the miniaturized, five-year-old Colonel O'Neill currently standing by the edge of her bed, his chin propped on scrawny little arms atop the mattress. The sweaty face, bloodshot eyes, and damp wisps of hair told the tale of the little Colonel's nightmares, as though the sight of him standing by her bed at oh-three-hundred hours wasn't explanation enough.

Sam wasn't quite sure how she'd been wrangled into babysitting the Colonel overnight; it had happened so fast, but somehow she knew that Janet was responsible. The doctor had taken advantage of her stupefied state with the whole situation, and apparently didn't find Daniel or Teal'c capable of handling a child on their own. Of course Teal'c had Rya'c, but he'd admitted to being the Warrior Dad during his son's younger years, and knew very little about child rearing. Daniel had no kids whatsoever, and neither did she, but apparently Sam was deemed capable because she had a young niece and nephew in San Diego. Whom, she admitted, she hadn't been able to see very often. It was beyond Sam's thinking abilities at that point to wonder why Janet couldn't take him, when she already had a child at home and was more than capable of caring for another.

What shocked Sam the most, since she'd been babysitting her mini Colonel, was how incredibly quiet he was. She expected him to be a boisterous little boy, fidgeting constantly as he did when he was an adult. A little hellion. But the small Colonel wasn't, he was just quiet. It wasn't the dangerous sort of quiet, where you knew he was secretly up to something; he was just a very low-keyed, silent little boy. Janet said that he might still be in a shock-like state after the transformation, and to keep a close eye on him.

Much to her private embarrassment, Sam actually found Colonel O'Neill to be an adorable little kid. She smiled at the thought for a moment before her attention returned to the problem at hand.

The five-year-old boy still staring and standing at the edge of her bed was now gripping the top blankets with white-knuckled intensity, his cinnamon orbs shining with unshed tears.

"Col-Jack," she forcefully corrected mid-word. Even seeing him as a little boy didn't make it any easier to call him by his first name. It felt forbidden. "What's the matter?" Sam didn't know why she'd asked; it was just a reaction. She figured he wouldn't answer her.

Without any indication of his next move, the five-year-old Colonel climbed up on the bed and crawled over Sam to curl up on her other side.

Surprised, but worried that he might feel dejected if she pulled away, Sam remained on her side, her body stiffening as his little frame pressed up against her back. A thousand thoughts were running through her brain at breakneck speed. This just felt wrong on so many levels.

When she could feel the sweaty, damp little body behind her, his heat permeating her t-shirt, Sam decided she had to do something. She turned over and propped herself up on an elbow, facing him. Reaching out a tentative hand, she touched his face. His eyes opened, but she doubted that he'd been asleep. "C'mon sweetie, let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

He blinked at her, sucked in a deep breath, then got up and slid off the bed.

Sam followed suit, her heart stuttering as she realized she'd just called her commanding officer "_sweetie_._"_ Oh God. When he's back to normal I sure as hell hope he doesn't remember this, she thought to herself with horror.

She nearly jumped when his clammy little hand slipped into hers. Sam smiled down at him and took her pint-sized Colonel into the bathroom.

After soaking a wash cloth in lukewarm water, she wrung it out and turned to the little boy, who was holding his arms up expectantly. Sam hesitated for a fraction of a second before gently tugging the damp, sweat-soaked t-shirt over Jack's head. Crouching at his level, she wiped the drying sweat off his face, neck, and chest before toweling him dry and dressing him in a clean t-shirt. He was staring up at her the entire time. "Better?"

Jack nodded, his soulful eyes gazing at her trustfully.

"Good. Now go on back to bed." Sam smiled as he ran out of the bathroom, making a beeline for her bed and crawling onto it quickly.

After she got herself into bed and rolled on her side once more, Sam smiled with surprise at the whispered, "G'night, Sam," coming from behind her.

* * *

IV.

Sam tried to ignore the hooting and howling in the background that she fully blamed on the alien planet's traditional welcoming ceremony. Daniel had insisted they graciously accept their strange new host's offer to be part of the ceremony that was being held in their honor, and as a result, she and Teal'c were the only team members not intoxicated. Teal'c had been saved by his symbiote, and for once Sam was grateful that the ceremonial drink the village leader was passing around had only been for the men on her team. Daniel had translated everything for them, and assured both the Colonel and Teal'c that they only had to sip from the ceremonial cup once. They had no idea that one sip was all it would take to get them both completely smashed. The brew was so potent that even Teal'c had been affected, though it only lasted about ten minutes before his symbiote cleansed his body of the powerful brew.

Dragging her teammates away from the village, Daniel had managed to decline the leader's offer to house them for the night without offending anyone. A minute later he'd been completely out of his head. When he began singing camp songs, loudly and off-key, as they began the twenty-four-hour long trek back to the stargate, Sam decided they'd make camp soon, as it was getting very dark, and let their archaeologist and the Colonel sleep it off.

Unfortunately for Sam and Teal'c, after camp was properly set up, they discovered that whatever was in the liquid that Daniel and Colonel O'Neill had consumed, it's effects occured in stages. Jack had stared at the campfire in a stupor for ten minutes while Daniel kept squealing excitedly about writings he himself had made in the dirt, claiming he'd found a lost alien culture that no one knew of except him.

Sam and Teal'c were soon convinced that the ceremonial brew was not only a very potent moonshine, but also some sort of drug, possibly a hallucinogenic one.

As the tumultuous noise faded away behind her, Sam turned around to discover that Daniel was gone, and Colonel O'Neill was lying flat on his back near the fire pit, arms and legs spread out, staring up at the sky. "Teal'c?" she called out, searching for the Jaffa that was also nowhere to be seen.

When Teal'c stepped out of one of the tents, Sam heaved a sigh of relief. "Daniel in there?" she asked him, gesturing toward the tent he'd just emerged from.

"Indeed." Teal'c nodded. "He lost consciousness, therefore I laid him on his sleeping mat inside the tent." He glanced at the unmoving Colonel O'Neill for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "Do you wish me to remain out here to keep my eyes on O'Neill?"

Her eyes darted to the Colonel. "No, that's alright. You stay with Daniel and do your kelno'reem. I'll look after the Colonel and take first watch."

The night seemed much too quite when Teal'c disappeared inside the tent once more, and as she turned from her staring at the surrounding forest, nearly jumped out of her skin. O'Neill was standing right behind her, swaying and looking confused as he patted his chest. "Sir! Jeeze, you scared me. Are you alright?"

"Carrrrter," he slurred, brows furrowed as he looked at her as though trying to figure out who she was.

"Yes, sir?"

O'Neill was staring at his chest, expression completely baffled as he plucked the t-shirt away from his skin.

"Something wrong, Colonel?" she asked him with concern. He and Daniel had been quite vocal and boisterous during their hike from the village, and it made her uneasy that now he was being so quiet.

"My shirt," he mumbled in a stupor, still plucking the material away from himself and looking at it with confusion. The Colonel's hands and arms maneuvered sluggishly, as though he were moving through Jell-O.

Sam cocked her head to the side, unsure where he was going with this. "What's wrong with your shirt?"

His head lifted and he narrowed his dark eyes, looking at her seriously. "Can't find the damn buttonsssh."

Trying hard not to laugh, she nodded at him. "Oh, well, um.... That's because there aren't any, sir."

"What?" he asked incredulously, as though _she _were the one off her rocker. "Whut'chu talkin' 'bout, Carrrrter?" The Colonel made a peculiar face, squinting one eye.

This time she couldn't help it; she did laugh. Then she decided to humor him. "Nevermind, Colonel. You're right." Sam took him by the arm and gently began leading her wobbly commander toward the fire to sit down. Those are some pretty tough buttons. I can help you with them if you'd like?"

He huffed and plopped down in the dirt beside the fire. For a second Sam was scared that he was about to topple into the flames, then he righted himself and flattened his palms against the ground, apparently for balance. "Furrrrgitit," Jack mumbled.

Sam went to sit near him, and a moment later he seemed to have given up on the non-existant buttons and simply pulled the shirt over his head. Staring at him with her mouth partly open, it seemed like her brain had short-circuited. She couldn't focus for a good solid minute or two. Then he got up and nearly _did _fall into the fire this time. Sam surged to her feet, grasped his arm, and got him to sit back down. "Sir, maybe you should try and get some sleep," she suggested.

His head swung toward her awkwardly, and he blinked with hazy brown eyes. "Yeah, okay." O'Neill stared at the ground beside him and finally curled up in the dirt, using his discarded t-shirt as a pillow.

Sighing and shaking her head at the pitiful sight, Sam got up again and lightly tapped on his forearm. "Colonel, you'd probably be more comfortable on the sleeping bags in the tent." She gestured toward the second tent, the one not occupied by either Teal'c or Daniel. When he grumbled something unintelligible and made no move to get up, Sam tugged on his arm, practically lifting her commanding officer off the ground.

"G'way," the Colonel muttered resistantly.

Sam decided that a firmer approach would be necessary. "Colonel. GET. UP!"

O'Neill jerked to his feet, nearly standing at attention. She guided him to the tent and gently, but firmly, shoved him inside and told him to lie down. She thought she should keep an eye on him, at least until he fell asleep, but Teal'c was still meditating in the tent he shared with Daniel, and someone had to be on watch.

For two hours there were no disturbances from their surroundings or from the inebriated men in the tents. When Teal'c emerged from his tent to relieve her of watch duty, Sam nodded gratefully at him and slipped inside her own tent where she presumed the Colonel to be sleeping now.

Much to her chagrin, O'Neill wasn't asleep when she entered the tent, shedding her tactical vest and weapons holsters and kneeling on her sleeping bag. She stared at him, and a wave of sympathy washed over her. He was just too pathetic. Now sans shirt, boots, and socks, the Colonel sat on his sleeping bag with his feet crossed, looking as though he'd been waiting for her the entire two hours she'd been on watch. He seemed to be struggling to stay awake, hands on his ankles, rocking back and forth, and his eyelids fluttering.

"What are you doing, sir?" Sam had to ask, her brows furrowing despite the fact that she thought he looked kind of cute sitting like that, like a little boy waiting for someone to tuck him in.

He didn't answer her, just cocked his head and quietly asked, "You goin' to bed now, Carter?"

She smiled a little at him and nodded, moving around to rearrange her sleeping bag. "Yes, sir. Teal'c's on watch duty now."

"Ah." The Colonel nodded at her with apparent understanding, though she doubted that his mind was really comprehending everything at the moment. There was a foggy, drugged stupor about him, his dark eyes clouded. Sam watched him as he unfolded his legs and laid on his side, patting the space in front of him. "You should sleep right here, Carter."

Nearly choking on her own saliva, Sam's eyes shot open wide with surprise. She rolled over with her back to him, hiding her smile and tugging the edge of the sleeping bag up over her shoulder. "Uh, I think I'm good, sir. Goodnight."

-

When an arm snaked around her waist and she was pulled tight against another body in the middle of the night, Sam acted on pure instinct. She kicked out with her legs and her elbow shot backwards, coliding with something solid.

"Argh!" The yelp of pain from her would-be assailant might have been satisfying if she hadn't recognized the voice.

Sam rolled over in a flash, groping for the flashlight beneath her sleeping bag and turning it on to find her CO curled up in pain behind her, his knees bent nearly to his chest and both hands covering his face. She sat up immediately. "Oh God, sir, I'm so sorry!"

He flinched away when she reached out to touch his arm and whined in a pitiful voice, "You hit me."

Judging by his tone, Sam guessed that he was still being affected by the alien's ceremonial drink. She grimaced, still holding the flashlight so it illuminated the inside of the tent without blinding either of them. "I know," she began sympathetically. She really couldn't blame him for his behavior; it was the drink. "I was startled when you grabbed me, Colonel. I didn't know it was you."

Jack lowered his hands from his face and squinted at her, his right eye watery and red and already swelling. He gave her another pitiful look, and Sam caved with a heavy sigh. She let him cuddle up with her for the rest of the night. Other than the eye, she had apparently kicked him in a very sensitive area. If it kept him quiet, allowing the Colonel to hold her was the least she could do. She really felt bad for hitting him, after all, and besides, no one had to know.

In the morning, Sam untangled herself from her commanding officer and slipped out of the tent unnoticed. She crept over to where Teal'c was meditating by the dying fire and took out the gear to make some coffee. When Daniel and the Colonel finally crawled out from their tents, both looking quite hungover, but acting more like themselves, everyone but Sam was wondering how O'Neill had managed to get a black eye.

Sam just looked away, hiding her smiles and handing out the coffee. She occassionally stole a few glances at the Colonel, who was now wearing his shirt again, much to her silent disappointment. It was her little secret after all, and no one had to know.

* * *

V.

Thinking that the day couldn't have gotten any longer, Sam groaned loudly and heaved herself off the couch when there was a knock on her front door. She wasn't expecting visitors. However, since she was currently housing an injured Colonel O'Neill, Sam suspected that Daniel and Teal'c may have come by to check up on them. On second thought, as she made her way to the door, she realized it couldn't have been the other two members of SG-1 at her door, because Daniel was holed up in his lab working on something he deemed "extremely important," and it was much too early for him to have left the mountain already. Teal'c wouldn't have gone off base by himself, so that left the question as to who was at her door.

Extremely curious now, Sam peeked out the window and saw an unfamiliar vehicle parked in front of her house. It looked like one of the typical sedans from the base motor pool. Pulling her door open, she got a surprise when her dad was standing there with a travel bag hanging by his side, smiling at her. "Dad!"

"Hey, kid, it's good to see you. Got a few days to be on Earth for some liason work; thought I'd surprise you."

Sam ushered him inside, nearly stumbling backwards through the door. "Yeah, it's...good to see you, too, Dad." It suddenly struck her that Colonel O'Neill was currently showering in her bathroom, and her father was standing in her foyer, most likely planning to spend the night. Not. Good.

Looking like he'd detected some uneasiness on her face, Jacob's brows knit together slowly. "If you don't want me to stay here, I can go back to the base . . ."

"No, no, it's fine!" Sam said a little too quickly. She forced a smile and took his bag. "It's just, uh, well Dad-"

"Hey, Carter, could you help me wrap my back?" Jack had chosen that exact moment to come around the corner in nothing but one of her fluffy, terrycloth bath towels, his skin still damp from the shower. In slow motion he looked up and noticed a very red-faced Jacob Carter staring right back at him. Any other time, Sam would have found the wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed look on the Colonel's face quite comical.

"O'NEILL?!" Her enraged father bellowed. Before she had the chance to say or do anything, Jacob lunged toward Jack in three quick strides, shocking Sam with his enhanced Tok'ra speed and strength as he floored the stupefied man in a matter of seconds.

"Dad!" Sam screeched, swiftly moving forward and shoving her father back from the Colonel. "This isn't what it looks like!" she said quickly, kneeling beside her dazed CO and gently patting the side of his face. "Sir? Can you hear me?"

Sam could hear her father heaving angry breaths a few steps behind her, but purposefully ignored him and focussed all her attention on her Colonel. She helped him sit up as he worked his jaw with a groan, and Sam cursed when she touched his back and her hand came away smeared with blood.

"Holy. . . Did I do that?" Her father asked with an audible gasp, sounding at least somewhat remorseful.

"No." Sam turned in time to glare at him as she helped her wobbly Colonel to his feet, making sure he kept a hand on the towel at his waist. "He got injured off-world today," she said lowly, frowning. "I was _trying_ to tell you. That's why he's staying here." Her eyes narrowed even more angrily. "But thanks to you, the Colonel's torn his stitches."

Jack was obviously doing his best not to even look at Jacob as Sam guided him back down the hall and into the bathroom once more, further ignoring her father for the moment. She was grateful the Colonel had the right of mind to keep quiet, at least. It was that, or his jaw was hurting too much to talk.

After placing a quick, temporary bandage on the Colonel's back, Sam told him to dress half way and then go into the bedroom so she could properly tend to the reopened wound. She continued to ignore her confused father as she gathered up the supplies she'd need to care for O'Neill. She was ticked at her father for jumping to conclusions, even if those conclusions weren't too far off. He didn't need to attack Jack, after all.

Peeking into the spare room with her supplies, Sam sighed with mild exasperation when she discovered her Colonel wasn't there. She found him in her room, sprawled across her bed on his stomach, his chin resting on folded arms. He was just wearing a pair of old sweats, his naked back exposed to her. "Jack?" she called softly into the bedroom, making her way over.

"Hrm?" He tilted his head in her direction, eyelids at half mast, gazing at her with glazed, cocoa-colored eyes.

She smiled tightly, knowing he had to have been in pain. With her First-Aid bag in hand, Sam knelt on the edge of the bed and leaned over Jack to place a tender kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry my dad hit you." She frowned apologetically.

Jack grunted. "I coulda taken 'im." She giggled and he snorted. "It's not fair, he's got Tok'ra super strength. And he surprised me," he mumbled.

Sam laughed and began to peel the hastily-applied bandage from his back, grimacing as his shoulders tensed from her actions. The long, deep gash stretched diagonally across the middle of her Colonel's lean-muscled back. A couple of the stitches had torn, and some blood had welled up from the parts of the wound that had reopened. She grimaced again, and began wiping around the stitches with saline solution. "How's your head?" she asked, absently.

"Spinning," he muttered, closing his eyes and burying his face in his folded arms.

Frowning, Sam finished cleaning him up, carefully applying some butterfly stitches on the wound where his other stitches had torn. Then she placed a clean dressing over it and lightly patted his upper back. "Okay, that should do for now. Tomorrow I'll take you to see Janet, and she'll fix you up properly."

He groaned. She knew he didn't want to go back to the infirmary, but she could see no alternative. Sam couldn't possibly do the stitching at home. Her medical training didn't go that far.

"I'll go talk to Dad and get you some painkillers." Sam sighed, gathering up her supplies.

Jack's head lifted from his arms and he squinted at her. "You gonna tell him about us?"

Sam made an uncomfortable face. "I wasn't planning on it..." She shifted her feet. "Why? Do you want me to?"

Jack shrugged awkwardly. "What else could he do to me?"

"Hmph." Sam grimaced, then nodded slowly. "Stay put, I'll be back." She paused in the doorway. "Pay no mind to any shouting."

-

"I'm sorry Sam, I don't know what I was thinking," Jacob immediately began to apologize when Sam found him in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, a scowl firmly across her face. "I'm not the only one you need to be apologizing to."

Her father grimaced. He made a step toward the hall, jerking his hand in the direction of the spare room. "I can go talk to him right now," he began.

Realizing her father was about to find Jack in _her _bedroom and not the spare room, she quickly shouted, "No!" When her dad gave her an odd look she hurriedly said, "Uh, ah, the Colonel's resting, Dad. He had a concussion, and you punching him in the face didn't exactly help. He's tired."

"Okay." Jacob sat down at the breakfast bar and fiddled absently with the cuffs on his civilian jacket. He sighed regretably. "I really am sorry, Sam. I just saw Jack walking around your house half naked and all I could think..." He shuddered and didn't finish the thought. Obviously, thinking of his baby girl being with a man made him extremely uncomfortable. And not just any man, her commanding officer.

Now it was Sam's turn to be apologetic. She didn't want to lie to her father. Sam sat down with a heaving sigh, throwing her hands over face and absentmindedly mumbling, "God, this is not how I wanted you to find out about us." She heard her father choke on his coffee and jerked her head up in shock. Oh crap. He wasn't supposed to hear that. Damn his Tok'ra-enhanced hearing.

"WHAT?!" her father spluttered, coughing and pounding a fist into his chest. He jumped to his feet and pointed at her accusingly. "So it WAS what it looked like?" Jacob managed to get out, his voice sounding unnaturally high-pitched.

"No!" Sam answered immediately, then got up and began pacing, waving her hands around manically. "Well, yes! I mean... Not really, but... AGH!" she cursed under her breath with frustration and finally stopped pacing to stand nervously in front of her father. She started talking fast. "It's not like that, Dad. Yes, we've been seeing eachother in secret, but that's not why he's here. He got hurt in the field, and Janet wanted to send him home, but not by himself. Daniel's working on a project with SG-13, Teal'c doesn't live off base, and the Colonel's boiler at home is being replaced, so I took him here."

Jacob was still gaping at her when she'd finished speaking. After giving him some time to compose his thoughts, Sam kept quiet to allow her father to speak. His eyebrows were drawn together and he looked deeply troubled. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. "Sam, you know this puts your career in jeopardy, don't you?"

Sam heaved a frustrated sigh. "Of course I know that, Dad. This is something Jack and I have been discussing for a while now. It's not for you to be concerned about. We're both adults. We love eachother and we know what we're doing." Jacob opened his mouth to say something again, but she quickly cut him off. "That's as much as I'm willing to talk about this with you, Dad. Please," she pleaded. "Just let it be, alright?"

Still looking quite troubled, her father slowly nodded in aquiescence. He sighed, glancing at the duffle bag he'd dropped on the floor. "I'll head back to base for the night, then."

When he reached for his bag, Sam stepped forward to stop him and touched her father's shoulder. "Dad, wait. You don't need to go; it's fine." She waved a hand out into the hall. "You can have the spare room."

Jacob cleared his throat. "Uh, isn't Jack...?"

Sam lowered her chin and narrowed her eyes at her father, warningly. "He'll be in my room, Dad." Then, at his startled look, she added, "Jack's hurt, and I'm exhausted; we're going to bed. That's all." She started to walk away, boldly tossing back over her shoulder, "Deal with it."

-

Jack was out cold, sprawled on his stomach and snoring softly as Sam quietly slipped into the dark room. The faint green glow from the alarm clock on her nightstand illuminated his slumbering form. She set down the pills and glass of water she'd brought for him, then changed into some sleep pants and a t-shirt, and strode over to the bed, kneeling beside Jack and placing her warm hand on his upper back, gently caressing the bare skin. She briefly thought about waking him to give him the pills, but decided that he couldn't have been in too much pain at the moment if he was sleeping so peacefully. Sam didn't want to disturb him if he could rest.

Sam crawled into bed gingerly, curling close to Jack without jarring him. She smiled as he muttered something in his sleep and shifted slightly. She put her hand on his upper back again and tenderly stroked his warm skin.

"What did Dad hafta say?" Jack mumbled sleepily, his voice more coherent this time.

Wiggling closer, Sam kissed his temple. "Well, he's not happy. He's worried about my career." She snorted, as though the thought had never crossed her mind. "I told him to deal with it."

She noticed Jack's lip twitch into a smirk, but his eyes were still closed. "You actually said that?"

"Yep." Sam grinned smugly, quite proud of herself.

Jack's brows lifted and he peered sideways at her through heavy-lidded eyes. "Should I be worried in the morning?"

"No." Smiling at him, Sam lifted a hand to brush through his hair. "I'll protect you," she promised with a laugh, leaning forward until her warm lips brushed his.

"Good." Jack grinned, then closed his eyes again, slowly settling back into sleep as he mumbled, "I was worried there for a minute."

-The End-


End file.
